Most of you, by now, that I consider myself more dog than cat. I roll around with shoes, wag my tail, and fetch toys 1/3 my size. It's a good thing I haven't picked up on one particularly nasty pooch habit, though; chewing, or I'd have ingested pounds of PVC beans already. Why? Because of my affinity for Beanie Babies. It's the noise, you see, it's intoxicating- well, that, and the fact I was originally strictly forbidden to touch these collectible critters. But the higher Jenna put them up, on her shelves, to quicker I'd climb to knock them back off. Before she knew it I was depositing love (spit) soaked Beanies on her pillow, to play, each morning!
A child raised in the 90s, Jenna has her own 'collection' of well over 100 Beanie Babies in storage- stacked neatly inside clear protective cases. When she finally gave in to my little addiction, I inherited the duplicates, such as Chocolate (the Moose) and 3 variations of Rainbow/Izzy (the Chameleon/Lizard). Ironically, when the humans venture into town 2-3 times a month to visit the local swap meet, I am treated with a new playmate in the form of bean filled critter. They make a point to bring me home a new toy every Wednesday- how spoiled am I? This week, it was the appropriately themed, noisy to toss, Goldie the Goldfish! Who says cats and fish can't be best friends?